


Action vs. Potential

by Kira_Tamarion



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 22:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_Tamarion/pseuds/Kira_Tamarion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liana Amell, was a woman of action. She had defeated the blight, and the Architect and was Warden Commander of the Ferelden Grey. One day a man from her past appears with the potential to change everything. A one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Action vs. Potential

AN: Written as part of the Valentine's Day challenge about unlikely pairing. Giving a shout out to the Cheeky Monkeys love you guys!

**Action vs. Potential**

Warden Commander Liana Amell was lying on the grass off to the side of the Vigil courtyard. Ferelden was being blessed by a span of beautiful weather, so she took advantage of it and basked in the sunlight.

After dozing off in the warm sun, she was startled awake by the voice of the guard and the opening of the front gate. Sitting up, she saw she saw a man enter the courtyard. He wore a dark brown leather jerkin over a white gambeson, brown leather breeches, and he carried a sword and shield. From her vantage point, she could only tell that he looked to be about Varel's age. The guard pointed to her and the man turned around.

"Knight-Commander!" Liana exclaimed, she stood up and went to him.

He smiled. "Just Greagoir. It's good to see you Liana."

Liana, still in shock, managed to nod. "Greagoir. Welcome to Vigil's Keep. What can we do for you?"

"Actually, I was hoping for a chance to speak with _you._ "

_Maybe, I'm still asleep and this is just a dream._ Clasping her hands behind her back she actually pinched herself and blinked. _Nope. Still here._

"Of course, by all means." She motioned for Greagoir to follow her into the Keep.

"Have you eaten, would you like some tea?" The words tumbled from her.

"Some tea would be excellent."

"Let me inform the kitchen, I'll be right back." Liana quickly walked into the dinning area where Varel was enjoying a late lunch. Liana asked the kitchen maid for tea and pastries to be sent to her office.

"Varel?"

"Yes, Commander."

"I… am having a meeting in my office. Please make sure I'm not disturbed unless it's an emergency."

Varel usually organized Liana's calendar. "A meeting, Commander?"

"Yes, I promise to explain later."

Varel simply nodded. Liana smiled with relief and went back to Greagoir

The years had treated him well. Though he had more silver in his hair, he looked just as he did during the blight. His eyes, were still the same warm brown, only they now held a twinkle of humor. Even without his Templar armor, Greagoir was still a tall, powerfully built man. When she she first came to the tower, she developed a bit of a crush on him, something she had never told another soul. Crushes end, as they do, but she never lost that inexplicable feeling of comfort and warmth in his presence. She was a man she may not have always agreed with, but had always deeply admired.

Once in her office, she motioned him to the sofa. He sat on one end, she on the other.

Greagoir drank in Liana's beauty, she wore simple tunic and breeches, her ebony hair was loose and windblown; her green eyes were like emeralds. She looked every bit as beautiful as he remembered and he suddenly felt shy in her presence.

"I didn't think templars took holidays." Liana said.

After a long pause, he said softly, "I'm… no longer a templar; I resigned my commission."

Liana was about to give a flippant response until she saw the look in his eyes. Maker! He's serious. "Greagoir, Knight-Commanders don't just resign."

Just then the tea arrived, and the tray was set down. When they were alone again, Liana prepared a cup for each of them. Once they had their tea, Liana curled up at her end of the couch.

"No they don't. I left it _all_ , Liana. I left the Chantry."

"Why?" Liana gasped.

"Do you remember what I said to you at your Harrowing?"

Liana smiled, although that seems so long ago, she remembered it clearly. "Yes, you said to always remember that my magic was a gift."

"Precisely. You have used your magic to rid our world of unspeakable evil. Yet, the Chantry insists that you are somehow unworthy, that you are a mage and therefore suspect. I have spent my life guarding against what people might do, that I have forgotten that it is someone who actually "brings intentional harm" to the least of His children are the ones hated and accursed by the Maker. People are to judged for their actions not their potential to act. You taught me that."

"Me?"

"Yes. When you saved the tower during the Blight, you saved everyone you could. You would only kill those who had become abominations. You made judgments based on a person's actions not their potential, and as a direct result you saved many who, if I had had my way, would have been killed."

"Greagoir you couldn't have known"

"Couldn't I? Maker's sake! I had known the mages in that tower for years. I knew that Irving would never become an abomination! I should have taken my men and gone into the tower to find him myself. Instead, I hid behind Chantry dogma and assumed that because they were mages they would become abominations. Isn't that what the Chantry teaches, 'all mages are abominations waiting to happen'?"

Liana listened to the pain in his voice. She moved closer to him and placed her hand on his, lending comfort through that simple act of touch.

He took her hand into his and put down his tea. "Liana, I didn't like who I'd become. That day that I was ready to kill a man who had been like a brother to me, and for what reason? Because he possibly could, maybe, become an abomination? I started to realize then, and through out that ordeal, that the Chantry is wrong in its treatment of mages. By treating them like criminals, locking them away from family and friends; they've created a blind spot: an environment in which true evil can thrive. That's why the malifcars were able to lure otherwise good people to their cause!"

Greagoir was silent for a moment. Then he took both of her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes. Liana was taken in by their depth, and by the clear admiration she saw in them.

"The last straw came when you had defeated the Blight and was made Arlessa. You could hear the Chantry's collective wail at the thought of a mage ruling an Arling. Do you realize that the Grand Cleric, petitioned King Alistair to make sure templars were stationed at the Vigil in case you became a malifcar? Andraste's ass! After all you had done for Ferelden, for Thedas?"

Liana remembered when she came to the Circle. She was 18, her magic had come late in life, but she was full of power, enough where Greagoir had argued with Irving to make her tranquil. She had been told that it was very rare for a mage to come into their magic that late. That the training needed to control such power was harder to learn the older the apprentice was. Irving was adamantly opposed the Rite of Tranquility. He insisted, instead, that he take on her training personally. Greagoir insisted that he be present during hers and Irving's lessons.

"As I recall, you didn't think too highly of my chances when I first came to the tower." Liana smiled.

Greagoir actually blushed. "No I didn't. Imagine if I had had my way? You proved me wrong many times over, Liana. I watched you master Irving's and my toughest challenges. I watched you help those around you. If I weren't for your patient and caring nature, there would have been many more failed Harrowings. No matter how much I barked at you, you never looked at me with anything other than friendship. I never understood why."

Liana smiled. "Because I knew that beneath that Chantry-hardened exterior was the heart of a strong, admirable man."

"Chantry-hardened?" Greagoir chuckled.

"I'm surprised that the Chantry let you leave. How were you able to get away?"

"That was the simplest part. I know too many secrets."

"Blackmail!"

"Indeed."

"Doesn't that put your life at risk?"

"No, because if I die from anything other than old age, the secrets will be revealed. The Chantry has a vested interest in keeping me alive, at least for a while." He smiled.

"But…what about the lyrium?" Liana said quietly.

"When I first came to the tower, I refused to use it. Irving, who had just become First Enchanter, helped me rid my system of it and get me back on my feet. I haven't used it or needed it since. A templar doesn't really need to lyrium to be a good templar."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"That depends." He said softly, drawing her hands to his chest, and Liana closer to him.

Liana suddenly felt the heat rise to her face, as her heartbeat sped up. "…Depends on...?"

Greagoir closed the distance between them, cupped his hand under her chin, and looked into her emerald eyes. "It depends on whether or not you could ever come to care about an old man like me? Liana…I realized that I've been in love with you since I first met you. There is something about being in your presence that makes me feel like a better person, a better man. You are the reason I realized how wrong my life had been…Liana Amell, you saved me."

Liana looked at Greagoir, the strong handsome face, and the warm brown eyes. She felt the integrity that ran through his very bones. She smiled, "I very much want to know the man behind the armor, the man I always knew you to be."

Greagoir closed the distance, his lips meeting hers, soft and sensual. He pulled her into his arms and the kiss deepened. After a moment, she drew back.

Liana smiled at him, "and you're not old!"


End file.
